


Lie Back, Arms Up

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: Muse [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: (not in any sort of explicit detail), Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Artist!Kaner, Bruises, College-hockey-player!Jonny, Exhibitionism, M/M, Minor Injuries, Nude Modeling, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3926602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonny had only half-hoped that the one series of drawing would be the end of it.  Don’t get him wrong; he’d loved sitting in Patrick’s studio, having Patrick’s eyes on him and mouth running about how much Patrick loved his body.  Like, who wouldn’t want that?  Especially when it would inevitably descend into frantic making out and blowjobs on whatever furniture Patrick had him posing on that time.</p>
<p>So, yeah.  That’s why he was lying spread out on new white sheets on Patrick’s bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lie Back, Arms Up

**Author's Note:**

> I do not represent the real people presented as characters in this fic, nor do I make any claims about what they do or do not do in their private lives.

Jonny had only half-hoped that the one series of drawing would be the end of it.  Don’t get him wrong; he’d loved sitting in Patrick’s studio, having Patrick’s eyes on him and mouth running about how much Patrick loved his body.  Like, who wouldn’t want that?  Especially when it would inevitably descend into frantic making out and blowjobs on whatever furniture Patrick had him posing on that time.

But it had been embarrassing, for everyone to see it.  TJ had been unbearable when he’d seen the last picture in the series, the one from the first time Jonny jerked off for Patrick’s eyes and pencil.

_But_ the way Patrick had looked at him in the gallery, a smug grin on his pink lips and lighting up his eyes, made Jonny want to pose for any drawing Patrick wanted, doing whatever he could to get that look again and again.

So, yeah.  That’s why he was lying spread out on new white sheets on Patrick’s bed.  Or, well, the pullout couch in the main room of his apartment that he used as a bed.

“You comfortable?” Patrick asked, from the easel he’d dragged out from the studio.  “Bed not too hard?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Jonny replied, shifting a little to get the metal support bar off the bruise on his back.  “How do you sleep on this thing?”

“Invite me over more and I won’t have to.”  Patrick grinned, hiding behind his Bristol pad and his curls.

Jonny rolled his eyes.  “I _said_ —“

“Open invitation, blah blah blah,” Patrick finished, sitting up on his stool to peek over at Jonny.  “I know, babe.  Now shirt off.”

Jonny huffed and pulled his shirt over his head.

“How’d you get that bruise?” Patrick asked, voice a bit worried.

Jonny looked down; to match the bruise on his back from the boards, there was a long band of purple and yellow across his stomach from the cross-check.  “The game yesterday.  Cross checked into the boards.”

Patrick winced.  “Ouch.  Did Seabs fight him?”

Jonny grinned.  “He pushed him around a bit.”

Patrick stood up again, taking the couple of steps to the bed to run his fingers along the bruise.

“Sorry if it ruins the mood of your drawing, or whatever,” Jonny said.

Patrick shook his head.  “No, it’s… the colors are so beautiful.  Can I…?”

“Can you what?”

“Can I draw you, and do the bruises in watercolor?” Patrick asked quickly, eyes still on the collage of colors across Jonny’s skin.  “It would be amazing, oh my god, it would look so great.”

“Sure,” Jonny replied.  “I don’t see why not.”

Patrick kissed him quickly, then ran into his studio to grab his watercolors.  Jonny relaxed back on the bed.

“I’ve got one on my back, too,” Jonny called out, when the bruise hit the metal support again.

“We’ll do that one after,” Patrick responded, coming back in with his arms full of paints.  “This is gonna be the best series of paintings _ever_.”

“If you say so,” Jonny said, smiling.  “How do you want me?”

Patrick narrowed his eyes and sat at his easel again.  “Arms up over your head, a little to the left so you’re stretched – yeah, like that.  Perfect.  Don’t move.”

Jonny closed his eyes, and let Patrick’s voice and the scratch of pencil on paper wash over him.  He could follow along with Patrick’s process in his mind, as he sketched Jonny’s _fucking beautiful_ shoulders, down the _elegant curve_ of his armpit and into his _perfectly shaped_ pecs.

And then Patrick fell silent.  That’d happened before, when he’d get really in the zone.  Jonny smiled, and resisted the urge to open his eyes and look over at Patrick.  However he started was always how Patrick wanted him to stay, right down to eyes open or closed.

He heard Patrick set his pencil down and then a brush swirling in water.  Patrick had started painting, then.  And he was still silent.

Jonny peeked one eye open, glancing over at Patrick.  He was intent on his work, tongue sticking out between his teeth and eyes wide open.  He cradled the brush gently in his hand, moving fluidly across the page.

Jonny was _enchanted._

“Eyes closed,” Patrick told him.  Jonny huffed a laugh and closed his eyes.

“Control freak,” he mumbled, just loud enough for Patrick to hear.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll change your tune when you see this painting.”

They both fell silent.  Jonny drifted, running through the papers he had to write and the plays he’d messed up in his last game.

“Done.”

Jonny opened his eyes.  “Yeah?  How is it?”

Patrick grinned and turned the paper around, holding it out so Jonny could see.  And it was as beautiful as Patrick had said it would be.  It was all dark, thick pencil lines and soft shading, just from Jonny’s chin down to the waistband of his jeans, with the bruises standing out in livid green, yellow, and purple watercolor.

“Patrick,” Jonny breathed.  “It’s fantastic.”

“Thanks babe,” Patrick replied, putting the paper on the easel again and hopping over to the bed.  He kissed Jonny softly, fingers flirting along the edges of Jonny’s bruise.

“You want to do the back?” Jonny mumbled against Patrick’s lips.

“Is that even a question?”

Patrick stood with one last kiss, and went back to his easel.  “All right, roll over.  Put your head on your arms.”

Jonny did as ordered, rolling his shoulders to get the tension out from lying in the same position for a while.  This one was more comfortable, anyway.  He might even be able to fall asleep.

He did, after only a couple of minutes, to Patrick’s mumbles about his shoulders.

 

.oOo.

The next time it happens, Jonny had a black eye.  A couple of the guys on the team had been fooling around after practice with some trick shots, helmets left on the bench in the absence of contact, and a bouncing shot had caught Jonny just under his eye.

Patrick looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack when he opened the door.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” He demanded, reaching up to cradle Jonny’s face in his hands.  “You wear a face shield!”

“We weren’t wearing helmets,” Jonny said with a shrug.  “Just fooling around.”

Patrick frowned and gently laid his fingertips on the edge of the bruise, where it was already yellowing.  “Does it hurt?”

“Not much,” Jonny replied.  “I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine in a few days.  Nothing to worry about.”

“Idiot,” Patrick said fondly, and kissed Jonny.  Jonny kissed back, guiding Patrick back into his apartment and kicking the door shut behind them.

“Aren’t you smooth,” Patrick mumbled against Jonny’s lips.  Jonny grinned and dropped his bag off his shoulder.

“Just for you.”

Jonny tried to move Patrick back towards the couch, but Patrick resisted.

“Wait, I need to draw you.”

Jonny thumped his forehead against Patrick’s.  “Right now?  Really?”

“Yeah, the bruise—“

Jonny sighed, but he couldn’t help a smile.  “All right.  Make it fast.”  It wasn’t the first time Patrick had ignored Jonny’s boner in favor of art, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

 

.oOo.

“Bruised knuckles?” Patrick asked, raising an eyebrow.  “Really?”

“I punched the wall in the hallway,” Jonny admits, letting Patrick press the ice bag to his hand.  He winced, hand clenching reflexively into a fist.  Patrick coaxed his fingers out flat again, twining their fingers together.

“Are you trying to be every hockey player stereotype?”

“No,” Jonny muttered petulantly.

Patrick giggled and shifted the ice to cover more of the bruises.  “That’s even worse, babe.”

Jonny sighed and stretched out his legs on the couch.  Patrick was sitting in Jonny’s lap, curled up against him with Jonny’s hand in his lap.

“You want to draw them, don’t you?” Jonny asked.  Patrick flushed.  “I knew it!”

“What?  It’s not like it’s a bad thing,” Patrick retorted.  “I pretty much always want to draw you.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

“You just like teasing me.”  Patrick pouted, until Jonny leaned up and kissed him.  Patrick fell into him, leaning against Jonny’s chest and turned in his lap so he wasn’t twisted around.  He opened up under Jonny’s lips, hand clenched in Jonny’s shirt.  Jonny’s free hand settled on Patrick’s ass; his bruised one was still carefully held in Patrick’s.

“You should draw it,” Jonny said, when Patrick moved down to lay kisses on Jonny’s neck.

“Draw what?” Patrick murmured.

“My hand,” he replied, curling his fingers around Patrick’s even more.  “And yours.”

Patrick looked down at their hands, and smiled.  “You’ll have to hold my paper for me.”

Jonny rolled his eyes and let go of Patrick’s ass.  “Go get it, then.”

Patrick kissed him quickly and hopped up.  “All right, I’ll be back.  Don’t move a finger.”

 

.oOo.

“Babe,” Patrick whined, waking Jonny up.

“Hmm?”  Jonny stretched his arms out over his head, flexing his feet.  He was on his stomach, half-under the thick quilt Patrick kept on his bed but otherwise naked.

“It isn’t _fair_ ,” Patrick continued, sliding his hands down Jonny’s back.  Jonny arched into it.  “Why do I have to have a class the _only day_ you don’t have morning practice?”

Jonny shrugged, and he was pretty sure Patrick legitimately whimpered.  “Bad luck.”

“Can you stick around until I get home?”

Jonny considered.  He had a paper due Friday that he hadn’t started, a worksheet for stats, but he could bully Patrick into going to the library later so they could both do their work without it devolving into making out and dry humping.

“Yeah, I’ll be here.”

“Awesome.”  Patrick leaned over Jonny and kissed him deeply, hand cupping his chin.  Jonny groaned and kissed back, until Patrick pulled away again.  “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“‘m going back to sleep,” Jonny mumbled, faceplanting in the pillow.  He heard Patrick shuffling around for a minute or two, before the definitive closing of the front door.  There was a thread of arousal running through him, after that kiss, but he figured it was unfair to get himself off while Patrick was wallowing in his World Cultures lecture.  Patrick would make it worth his while.

He hadn’t really noticed that he’d fallen asleep until he was woken up by Patrick’s hands on his ass.

“You always look so good,” Patrick told him, fingers digging into the firm curve of Jonny’s ass.  “I wish I could have my hands on you all the time.”

“Then you wouldn’t be able to draw me,” Jonny replied, pushing back into Patrick’s hands.

Patrick laughed.  “Yeah, then I wouldn’t be able to draw you.  I’d miss that.  But I think I’d accept it, if I got this.”

Jonny flushed; neither of them was much for spouting lovey-dovey talk.  Patrick had more of a knack for it than Jonny, though, and he supposed this was just a reflection of that.

“What did you think about doing to me?” Jonny asked, changing the topic.  Talking about sex was a lot easier than talking about relationships, especially when he could just listen to Patrick’s voice.

“A lot of things.”  And that, that was the voice that Jonny loved.  Patrick leaned in and bit the swell of his ass; Jonny jerked, but Patrick’s hold on him kept him mostly in place.  “Now I’m just thinking about eating you out.”

“Oh God,” Jonny groaned, pushing back against him.  “Patrick—“

“Yeah, you want that?” Patrick asked, sliding his hands over Jonny’s skin until he could grip his cheeks and pull them apart.  Jonny could feel every finger digging into him, but that sensation was overtaken when Patrick’s tongue skated over his hole.

“ _Patrick!_ ”

Jonny could feel Patrick’s grin against his skin, and he didn’t want to think about how that ratcheted up every burst of arousal.  Patrick licked over his hole, again and again, until he pressed just the tip of his tongue in.

“You want me to eat you out until you come?”  Patrick panted, adjusting his hands to pull Jonny even wider.  “And then finger you open, so I can get my cock in you?”

“Yeah,” Jonny moaned, rocking back and then forward so his cock rubbed against the sheets.  “Pat _please_.”

Without a second of hesitation, Patrick leaned in again and started licking and sucking at Jonny’s hole.  Jonny groaned, hands scrabbling in the sheets until he managed to fist a bundle of fabric in his hands.  His hands in the sheets and Patrick’s on his ass were all that anchored him while Patrick’s tongue destroyed him.

Pretty soon Patrick moved on from licking and sucking to thrusting his tongue inside, rubbing against even more of the sensitive nerves.  Jonny always loved when Patrick would rub the tips of his fingers just inside him, so it made sense that he loved Patrick’s tongue doing the same.

“You gonna come, Jonny?” Patrick pulled back to ask.  His breath fanned over Jonny’s spit-slick skin.  He shivered.

“Yeah,” Jonny panted, grinding against the bed.  The sheets weren’t that comfortable rubbing against his cock, but he couldn’t stop.  He felt like he’d explode if he didn’t do _something_ , and, well, he’d explode if he did move too.

“Yeah,” Patrick agreed, holding Jonny’s ass apart and diving in again.  He thrust his tongue in with no preamble; Jonny cried out, bucked back against his mouth and then came on the sheets.  Patrick pulled back a bit, just to lick lightly over Jonny’s hole and gentle him down as Jonny continued to tremble.

When Jonny finally stopped shaking, he flailed a hand back to grab hold of Patrick’s curls.

“Kiss me,” he panted, tugging up.  Patrick went willingly, leaning over Jonny’s shoulder to kiss him slowly.  “Get the lube.”

“As you wish,” Patrick murmured, and leaned over him to grab it from the table he kept next to the couch-bed.

Jonny snorted.  “That thing gets messier every time I’m here.”

“Hey, I don’t complain about all the water bottles on the floor in your dorm,” Patrick said, and smacked his ass.  Jonny jumped, and then flushed when he felt his cock get _very interested_ in these proceedings.

Jonny glanced over his shoulder to see if Patrick had noticed.  The gleeful look on his boyfriend’s face meant that, yes, Patrick had most definitely noticed.

“Really?” Patrick asked, still grinning.  “Man, I’m glad this ass isn’t going to go to waste, then.”

Jonny flushed darker.  “Just get your fingers in me already.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Patrick replied, pouring the lube over his fingers.

“Well I just _did_ —ohhhh.”

Jonny could feel Patrick’s grin pressed against his back as he pressed a finger in deep.  Jonny knew he’d be loose from the rimming and the orgasm, but the slide of Patrick’s finger in was easier then he imagined it ever could be.  Every little movement sent sparks through him, everything still a little oversensitive so soon after his orgasm.

“Yeah, you’re loose, aren’t you?” Patrick muttered, adding a second finger and sucking a bruise into the back of Jonny’s shoulder.  Jonny moaned, digging his forehead into the pillows.

“Can you go up on your knees, sweetheart?” Patrick asked, scissoring his fingers.  Jonny trembled at the stretch and shook his head.  He was still boneless from his orgasm, and the slick stretch of Patrick’s fingers in him definitely wasn’t helping him get control of his body.

Patrick added a third finger, and Jonny sucked in a breath.  It was always when they got to this point that Jonny could feel the stretch, a hint of sting around his entrance and a low ache throughout his bottom half.  But it was always when Patrick would _finally_ rub the tips of his fingers against Jonny’s prostate, so the uncomfortable stretch never lasted.  It was always transmuted into overwhelming pleasure.

Sure enough, Jonny felt Patrick’s fingers rock into his prostate barely a second after the third one had entered him.  He moaned, pushing back against the fingers and inadvertently dragging his cock along the wet sheets.  It was an odd sensation.  Not entirely pleasant, but the slick pool of come helped to soften the rough fabric, and to harden his cock again.

“You ready?” Patrick asked, just like he always did, as he spread his fingers a bit.

“Yeah,” Jonny panted, grinding back on his fingers again.  Patrick took his fingers out and reached over Jonny to that same messy table to grab a condom.  He opened the package and rolled it on quickly, then poured some lube over his cock and spread it around with his already-wet hand.  He wiped his hand on the sheets next to Jonny’s hip.

“They need to be washed anyway,” he told Jonny when Jonny made a discontent noise.  “Your spunk made sure of it.”

“Your fault,” Jonny muttered, spreading his legs at the touch of Patrick’s hand to his thigh.

“Yeah, it is,” Patrick replied, so fond that Jonny had to bury his face in the sheets again.  Patrick’s hands landed on his hips, coaxing him up off the bed.  “Come on, I’ll hold you up.”

Jonny grumbled, but scooted his knees in with Patrick’s guidance until his ass was up in the air.

“My favorite view in the whole world,” Patrick said.  He leaned down and kissed the left cheek quickly.

“Just get inside me.”

Patrick laughed and kneeled up again, lining his cock up and thrusting in slowly.  He gripped Jonny’s hips tightly; even if Jonny wanted to collapse to the bed again as Patrick thrust in, he wouldn’t be able to.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Patrick muttered as he bottomed out.  “You take it so good, Jonny.”

“Shut up,” Jonny moaned, trying to thrust back against him.  Patrick’s fingers dug in more at his hips and kept him in place.  But after another second Patrick pulled back and thrust in again, leaning forward over Jonny’s back to lay a line of kisses over the back of his shoulders.

“You really want me to shut up?” Patrick said against his back, setting up a steady pace with his hips that Jonny could do nothing but follow.  “Or I could tell you about how good you feel around my cock.”

“Oh God,” Jonny groaned, his back arching.  Patrick knew every single one of his weaknesses, it seemed.

“You feel so nice, Jonny,” Patrick crooned. “You keep clenching down like you can’t help it, like you want me deeper inside of you.”

He set his teeth against a knob of Jonny’s spine at the base of his neck.  Jonny cried out and jerked under Patrick, and again when his teeth pulled away only for Patrick to start sucking at the same spot.  Patrick clung to his hips as he thrust into Jonny, starting to go faster and harder as he kept squeezing tighter on Jonny’s hips and sucking marks up and down Jonny’s back.

“You’ve got practice tomorrow,” Patrick panted.  Jonny couldn’t respond, could only push into Patrick’s thrusts as much as he was allowed.  “You’re gonna have to undress in the locker room with my marks all over you, from my mouth all down your back, from my fingers on your hips, everyone will look at you and know how much you love to take it from me—“

Patrick knew every one of Jonny’s weaknesses.  Walking around with Patrick’s marks under his clothes always got him going, and Patrick knew it.  But having everyone see and know, well, that was what made Jonny come a second time, clenching down around Patrick’s cock and bucking under him.  Patrick grunted and held on tight, thrusting in a handful of times before stopping as far in as he could go, shaking and moaning above Jonny as he came, too.

As soon as Patrick’s hold on Jonny’s hips loosened, Jonny dropped straight down to the bed.  Patrick followed him down, spread out over Jonny’s back with his cock still inside Jonny, his whole body twitching through the aftershocks.

“Wet spot,” Jonny mumbled after a moment, all that he was capable of saying.  Patrick grunted and rolled to the other side of the bed, then tugged Jonny over to curl up with him.  Jonny sighed, nuzzling into Patrick’s shoulder and flopping an arm over his stomach.

“You gonna go back to sleep?” Patrick asked, using the hand not trapped under Jonny to pull the condom off and tie it.

Jonny mumbled something.  He wasn’t sure what he was saying, and neither was Patrick, but Patrick seemed to get the jist.

“I’ll wake you up for lunch,” Patrick told him, and kissed him softly.

Jonny fell asleep.

 

.oOo.

He woke up by himself, not to Patrick’s kisses or poking like he usually did.  He flailed out an arm, expecting to hit Patrick’s bare skin.  But he only hit the sheets.

“Pat?” He groaned, cracking an eye open.

“Behind you, babe,” Patrick replied.  “Don’t turn around yet.  I’m almost done.”

“With what?” Jonny asked, closing his eyes again.  He was lying on his side, curled up a little, the way he always did when he’d been pressed against Patrick at some point while he slept.  Like he was leaving a perfect space for Patrick to slide back into.

“You’ll see.”

Jonny scoffed, but stayed still.  He could hear the quiet scribble of Patrick’s pencil on his pad every so often.  Finally, the noises stopped, and the mattress creaked as Patrick scooted closer.

“You wanna see?”

Jonny never turned down a chance to see Patrick’s art, even if it made him a little embarrassed, sometimes.  So he opened his eyes and reached back for Patrick.

“I did a couple.  You slept like a rock.”

It was Patrick’s nice pad, the one he’d been doing the bruise watercolors in.  So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he flipped through a couple pages of the pad to show Jonny close-up drawings of his hips, one side of his ass, and various spots on his back with the marks Patrick left painted in vivid watercolor.  There was the bite mark Jonny could still feel tingling at the base of his neck, and the matching one on his ass.  Perfect indigo imprints of five fingers over the curve of his hip.  A scattering of purple and red marks across his shoulders.

“They’re great,” Jonny said quietly.

“I’ve got about half an exhibit so far,” Patrick told him.  Jonny smiled and looked back at Patrick.  Without even having to ask, Patrick leaned in and kissed him softly.

“What else do you want for the series?”

 

.oOo.

By the time the exhibit went up, for Patrick’s end-of-semester project, there were twenty pictures.  All the early ones had made it in: Jonny’s hockey bruises, the bruised knuckles, the bite marks, the finger marks.  More hockey bruises had been added as the season had dragged on.

There was a large one of a collar of bruises Patrick’s mouth had left on Jonny’s throat.  Another of the bruises Patrick’s hands had left on Jonny’s wrists when he’d pinned him down and sucked him until Jonny wanted to cry.

“I’m thinking of doing rope, next,” Patrick murmured in Jonny’s ear, as they walked through looking at the paintings.  “I’m taking a photography class next semester.”

A shot of excitement ran down Jonny’s spine.  He thought he managed to hide it, but Patrick smirked at him like he knew.  Of course he did.

**Author's Note:**

> WHOO one more in this series, i think.
> 
> series title comes from a combo of the idea of having an artistic muse (like Jonny is for Patrick) and from the awesome OCAD song "Muse."
> 
> i'm on tumblr as somethingnerdythiswaycomes.


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